


What you are in the dark (is beautiful)

by PeaceHeather



Series: Marvel 'verse [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angry witches, Body Horror, But they happen to someone who really deserves it so maybe that makes it okay, Community: norsekink, Evil Odin, Gen, Good Frigga, Horror, How Do I Tag, Loki's Sentencing, Magic, Magical Accidents, Not sure if this is 'body horror' or not but some things happen that are sort of gross, Only the one witch really, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Avengers Asgard, Prompt Fill, Protective Thor, Thor is okay I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4624467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceHeather/pseuds/PeaceHeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on Norsekink: "Instead of a prison for Loki, Odin casts an old and little-used spell on him. The spell is designed to turn a person into what they are at heart: good people become glorious, cruel people become hideous.</p><p>Everyone expects him to become a hideous old man or some such. So it rather ruins Odin's punishment when the result is a being made of ice and fire and light, covered in the cruel wounds of loss and deep pain but still more beautiful than anyone in all the Nine.</p><p>Because seriously, Loki had the patience of a saint to not burn the whole palace down years ago and a nearly endless font of loyalty to fight alongside either Odin or Thor considering how he was treated."</p><p>I hope I did it justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GuesssWho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuesssWho/gifts).



They had invited the Avengers to Loki's sentencing, once the Bifrost was repaired. Here they were, on another planet, but only so they could see a condemned criminal get his just desserts.

"You think they'll do an actual beheading?" Clint muttered under his breath, hoping to catch Natasha's ear and no one else's.

"I guess we'll see," she replied. "Do you have a preference?"

"I'd rather not get splattered," said Clint, and she knew he was covering. Not that she could blame him; usually they were the ones to deal out death, and they did it swiftly and got it over with. They were assassins, not executioners, and the difference might be subtle but it was still there.

They'd stopped Loki, back on Earth. For them, that was supposed to have been the end of it. Being here on Asgard, now, felt like digging up old ghosts better left buried.

And maybe the ruler of Asgard felt the same way, because they were brought to a bare circular chamber of dull brown stone, stark compared to the opulence they'd seen in the rest of the city and palace. The room was maybe ten paces across, with a low dais on one side and a single chair on the dais; the chair was the most ornate thing in the room, and even it was only made of unadorned, curving wood, low, backless, and with only a wide leather sling for a seat. Before the dais, in the center of the chamber, a metal circle had been inlaid into the floor that might have been gold or polished copper; it was hard to tell in the light of the torches on the walls. There were two curved benches, also backless, outside the circle that could hold maybe eight people each, but other than that, the room was empty. Not a place for a large audience of spectators.

The stone floor inside the metal circle was bleached lighter than anywhere else in the room, Natasha noticed, no doubt having been scrubbed spotless countless times over the centuries.

Nobody spoke. After a moment, the Avengers found their way to the benches and sat, and Thor moved to stand to the right of the empty chair, but the silence built until Tony, the least patient of them, spoke to break it.

"Do we know what the sentence is going to be, Thor?"

The prince stood in ceremonial armor and glared for a moment before his eyes softened. "We do not, my friend," he said. "But it is… improper, to engage in idle conversation in this place. The occasion is somber, the circumstances grave. We show our respect by keeping silent."

"Silent," muttered Tony. "Right." He was restless, fidgety without his armor or any of his usual tech toys to play with. Natasha wondered how long he'd be able to stand the quiet before he broke.

Fortunately, none of them had to find out, because only a minute later, a small procession came into the room: Odin, presumably, since he took his place standing before the wooden throne; an ancient woman robed all in black, with a scowl on her face and a basket in her hands; and two guards, who positioned themselves on either side of the dais.

Thor seemed confused at the presence of the old woman. "Father?"

"Loki's crimes are virtually unique in Asgard's history," said Odin. "His punishment will be unique as well."

She could tell Thor really wanted to ask more, but apparently the injunction against talking was pretty strong here on Asgard; he looked upset, and bit his lip while he kept glancing at the king, but he somehow managed not to say anything else.

"Hmph." The woman, on the other hand, had no such qualms. " _Punishment._ " She set her basket down on the bench beside Natasha, pulling out a little clay pot and a paintbrush, and stepped into the circle. "Sadistic barbarity, more like," she said, and tossed the lid of the pot aside carelessly. With a grunt of effort, she started to stoop to her knees.

Steve, the big lug, moved forward to offer her his arm, until Odin _barked_ at him to stop. He sat back slowly, but the woman only chuckled.

"The thought is appreciated, hero," she said. "The fates know there's little enough kindness ever offered in _this_ place. But I'm sacred; it's forbidden to touch me. Of course, you're mortal and you wouldn't know that, but the All-Father doesn't care about such mitigating circumstances. He'd be liable to lop off your hand in punishment and claim he was defending my honor, even though we'd all know better."

"Enough, völva," said Odin. "You have already made clear your objections to participating in today's judgment."

"And I will make them clear again," she answered tartly. "You don't command _me,_ Borson. The powers I represent command _you,_ and you would be wise not to forget it." Steve started to speak, then stopped and only cleared his throat instead, but the old woman caught it anyway. "Ask your questions, mortal. It's unlikely you will offend me."

Steve cleared his throat again and glanced across the circle at Natasha; she just shrugged and nodded. Let him get what information he could. "Well, I just… I don't mean to be rude, but if you object to the sentence…"

"Why am I helping to carry it out?" She dipped her paintbrush into the jar and began marking symbols onto the stone inside the circle. "Partly because I am one of the very few people left alive who knows how to craft this particular bit of magic, which doesn't give me much choice if I want to see it done right." She sniffed. "Partly because I think Odin, vindictive as he is, will get something he's not expecting and I want to see the look on his face when he does."

"What does that mean?" asked Bruce. "We, uh, we were under the impression this was going to be an execution. I, uh… I don't see what would be 'unexpected' about the outcome there."

"Fair enough," said the woman. "And if Odin were really merciful, you'd be right. He'd take the head of his own son, the servants would scrub the stones afterward and pitch the body into the sea rather than giving it a proper burning, and that would be an end to it. But Odin isn't feeling merciful. The boy he stole and raised for his own slipped his leash and acted without his papa's say-so, and no matter what other crimes he might have committed, Odin means to make sure he lives to regret _that_."

Clint, next to Natasha on the bench, shifted uncomfortably; long years of training kept her still, but she felt the same unease he did. The only difference between an execution and a murder was whether or not the rightful authority of law was involved; when the law was also the angry father of the accused, one started to wonder where justice really fit into the equation. When the sentence was implied to be worse than mere killing?

Natasha had enough pointless blood on her hands.

In front of his throne, Odin glowered at the woman, but said nothing, and Natasha was reminded of the special immunity granted to court jesters and minstrels once upon a time; the power to speak the truth with impunity was rare and closely controlled.

"So what is going to happen," Tony asked, quietly, in the tone he only used when he was digging up ghosts of his own.

"Can't say," said the woman. She shifted a bit, hitched up her robes and moved a couple feet along the circle. "Not because it's any grand secret, although I'm sure Odin would like you to believe that. No, this magic does something different to every person who endures it. Part of my job here today will be to interpret the changes it will force on his appearance. Explain what they mean."

Odin spoke up, sounding indifferent. "The völva's runes will cause the outer appearance of the accused—"

"Of your _son,_ " spat the woman. " _Say_ it, betrayer."

"Your impudence tries my patience, witch," growled Odin. "Do you wish for me to test the circle on you before the criminal is brought in?"

The völva sat back on her heels and looked up at the king with a beatific smile. "Oh, I'd dearly love to see you try," she said. "You've chosen to ignore enough of our warnings, Borson, and so far you've escaped the wrath of the Norns. I do wonder how much longer that would be the case if you tried to impose your will on me."

She went back to her work, still smiling, and utterly indifferent to Odin's growl.

"Father?" Thor asked again, softly.

"It is an ancient working," said Odin, "not seen since my father's time. It causes the person's outer appearance to reflect the state of their inner self. Those who are pure of heart are given new form, flawless and without blemish. Evildoers become as twisted and ugly in body as they are in spirit. A fitting punishment for one such as Loki."

The old woman's back was turned to Odin, but Natasha could see her smile as she began to hum a little tune under her breath.

"How do we know this will really work?" asked Clint. Odin glared at him, but he stood his ground. "You already know she doesn't want to do this to him; what if she sabotages the…" he waved a hand at the painted runes, "the setup?"

"She will not." Odin sounded pretty sure of himself. Natasha just heard the tone of a man who always got his way.

"He's actually right about that," said the woman, still shuffling along on her knees and dipping her brush into the clay jar in her hand. "Rune work like this is old and powerful, and sacred in its own way. To try and alter it is very dangerous; I would be as likely to kill us all with a misplaced brushstroke as to craft a successful variation. Not only that, I would almost certainly anger the beings to whom I am pledged, and while you may not know it from our conversation so far, I am capable of showing respect to those who deserve it. I would not offend them for any price."

"So that's it—it just changes his shape?" pressed Clint. Natasha hid a sigh; Clint was looking for pain and suffering, not that she could blame him, but she thought he might be letting his need for closure blind him to the subtleties.

"'Just'? Oh, no, child," said the völva. "It turns him inside out. All the deepest secrets of his heart, all the emotions he has hidden over his lifetime, all the facets of his personality that none know but him, will all be on display, from now until Odin finally permits him to die. He'll be _exposed._ " She paused and looked over her shoulder, right at Bruce. "Like a nerve."

For some reason, both he and Tony startled. The two of them leaned close and started to whisper urgently. At this angle, Natasha couldn't read their lips, but if she had to guess, Bruce was trying very hard to convince Tony to get him the hell out of here.

The old woman sniffed again and went back to her painting. "Everyone who looks upon him will know exactly what sort of person he is, and he will be helpless to hide, even behind his own skin." She glanced up at Clint briefly. "Could you bear such exposure? Would you have the strength to endure it?"

"I already have," said Clint, rasping a little. "Loki did that to me when he took over my mind." He swallowed heavily, and added, "He saw everything."

"Mm. But you got better. And only one person saw you. And you weren't aware of it while it was happening." She shuffled sideways with a little grunt. "And it was still a nightmarish torture that you would never wish to repeat, yet Odin Borson has no difficulty inflicting an even worse violation on his own son. Would you have the courage to go on living, under those circumstances? Asgard takes a dim view of suicides, traditionally. It is considered a shameful end. Odin does _this_ ," she gestured at the painted symbols around her, "to drive the prince to take his own life. He can tell everyone he was _merciful_ , and avoid dirtying his hands with the death of his own son, while still taking care of the problem, frightening his subjects into submission, and being cruel to the boy one last time."

"Enough!" Odin scowled, and the woman subsided, but nothing in her posture said it was because she gave a damn for the king's command.

Bruce stood. "Yeah. Okay. I don't need to be here for this."

"You do not have a choice," snapped Odin.

Bruce took a deep breath. "Has Thor told you what happens to me when I get upset?" he asked mildly. "We came here to see justice done. To see a criminal executed, and I didn't like it, but I understood why I had to be here. You know, it's politics, sometimes our presence is just necessary. I get that. But this… you're planning on torturing and humiliating him, and that's not what I came here for. And you, Thor, you're planning on letting it happen." He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "That's the kind of thing that gets me upset. It's… best for everyone if that doesn't happen."

He gave an awkward little half-bow to Odin, and a look of extreme disappointment to Thor, who looked stricken but still said nothing. Then he turned and began to sidestep between the bench and the outer edge of the circle, away from Odin.

"I do not give you permission to leave, mortal."

"My other half doesn't really care much about permission, unfortunately," said Bruce. He paused. "And come to think of it, there's some debate on whether or not we're even mortal anymore."

"Friend Bruce—"

"Not now, Thor." He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, just because you're strong enough to take on the Other Guy doesn't mean you'd be able to keep him in this room, or keep him occupied long enough for everyone else to escape."

"You are too late, in any case, shapeshifter," said the völva. She was painfully hoisting herself to her feet, jar in hand. "Now that the circle is prepared, none may leave until the deed is done. But never fear." She hitched up her robes and stepped delicately out of the circle, mindful not to touch any of the painted runes. With a careless toss, she put her supplies back into the basket, then walked around to stand in front of Bruce and looked him up and down. "Hmm. This should work." She reached up and pressed a thumb to his forehead. "How does that feel?"

Bruce started to speak, paused, then blinked at her in astonishment. His shoulders dropped, and he took a breath as if he were waking up from a long night's sleep. "I… What did you do?"

"It's temporary," she said, "but it should last through the sentencing. Now. Sit you down." She waved him back to his spot beside Tony, then plopped her basket down onto the other bench, next to Natasha, and took her place between them, just outside the circle and opposite Odin. "Show your respect to the Norns, or whatever higher powers mortals believe in nowadays, or failing that at least respect the solemnity of the occasion," she said. "You do that by keeping silent, no matter what you see, until it's over." She straightened her robes, drew herself up with dignity, and tucked her hands into the ends of her sleeves. "And try not to fidget."

The rest of them got comfortable. Odin finally sat, and without looking at anyone in particular, intoned, "Let the witnesses enter."

Natasha and Clint had chosen the bench that faced the chamber's only door, placed to the left side of the throne, oddly enough, instead of facing it across the circle. One of the guards opened it, and ten or so other Asgardians came in single file; they were mostly older, but there were four who looked to be about Thor's age. One by one they saluted their king (and the younger four added one for their prince), then found their seats beside the Avengers, all without speaking. A couple of them frowned at the sight of the old woman and the runes inside the circle, or at the humans themselves, but that was all.

They sat, and the silence returned and grew heavy before Odin spoke again. "Bring in the condemned."

Natasha didn't miss the way Thor shut his eyes at that, clenching his jaw for a second before he pulled himself together.

The door opened again, and in came Loki, chained and manacled and shackled to within an inch of his life and surrounded by more guards than Hannibal Lecter. They brought him, shuffling, to the gap between the dais and the end of the bench nearest the door; he had a wicked smirk on his face and his eyes glittered with malice. Beside her, Natasha could hear the creak as Clint clenched his fist around the edge of his seat.

"Loki… Son of None," began Odin, and Thor actually flinched at that. Loki himself barely blinked. "You have been found guilty of crimes too numerous to count. You have rejected the embrace of your loved ones, rejected the laws of your home, and clutched instead to hatred born of madness and spite. Everywhere you go, you bring war, ruin, and death. Your crimes against entire planets are unheard of, throughout the Nine Realms."

"Is that what you tell yourself—" Loki began, but one of the guards struck him hard in the stomach and he doubled over. Before he could drop to his knees, the guards behind him hauled on the chains and yanked him back upright. Across the way, Bruce and Tony both winced, while Steve looked deeply uncomfortable.

"We are not here to listen to you speak," said Odin, and for all that he was supposed to be an impartial king, he made no effort to hide the smugness in his voice. "This is not a trial. Your guilt is well established. The severity of your crimes is known to all. We are here to pass sentence, and to see it carried out immediately."

Loki's mouth twisted in something too bitter to call a smile, but he said nothing.

Odin gestured, and the völva stepped forward, to the very edge of the circle. Loki saw her move out of the corner of his eye, and shifted his gaze away from Odin; for the first time Natasha saw his façade give way a little. "You are not an executioner," he said. The guards moved to strike him, but Odin gestured again and they held their position. Theater, Natasha thought with an internal sneer. Odin wanted to give Loki time to figure out for himself what was going to happen.

"No, child," said the old woman, "I am afraid not." She sounded sincerely regretful, and Natasha caught the flicker of confusion across his face before he hid it away.

The völva let Loki study her face for another moment or two before glaring at the guards surrounding him. "Take those damnable things off him," she snapped. "The enchantment will fail, otherwise, and then where will you be, hm, Borson?" Natasha heard the faint gasp, quickly covered, from some of the Asgardians.

"Enchantment," murmured Loki, "what…?" And then the hands of the guards, pushing him back and forth as they turned him and removed chains at his neck, waist, wrists, and ankles, nudged him forward far enough to see the painted markings inside the metal circle.

His eyes darted back and forth, seemingly reading them, and Natasha saw the moment when realization struck. " _No,_ " he whispered, then louder, "No!" He launched himself backward frantically, throwing elbows, but the guards outnumbered him eight to one, and before long they had him subdued, on his knees, with his mouth bleeding and his arms twisted behind him in a painful lock. He glared up at the king, his father, who only stared down at him impassively. "I knew you to be cruel," he grunted as the guards tightened their grip, "but I never realized you were _sadistic_."

"The depravity of your crimes demands an extreme response," said Odin, with the hint of a smirk hiding in his beard. Even as much as Natasha hated Loki, in that moment she despised Odin even more.

The king did no more than twitch his eyebrows and the guards hauled Loki to his feet, struggling all the while; he wouldn't have much farther to go before he dislocated his shoulders, but that wasn't stopping him.

"All-Father." One of the witnesses spoke up, with streaks of gray at his temples and beard. He sat calmly, his hands on his knees, while the other Asgardians in the room startled at the breach in protocol.

"General Tyr," said Odin mildly, "you would disrupt these proceedings?"

"I would know what sentence you have decided to pass upon the condemned," said the general. "We here assembled are to serve as witnesses that justice is served; we cannot do that if we do not know what we are to witness."

Odin started to speak, but the völva cut him off. "Loki is not to die," she said. "Your king means to deform him and leave him to suffer, instead."

"Be silent, witch," growled the king, but she only laughed.

"Loki can read them!" she said, flinging a hand out at the runes. "Do you think he would react so if he knew he were facing the axe? He came in here calmly enough, didn't he?"

"All-Father," said General Tyr. "Odin. Is this true?"

"Loki has hidden behind lies and deception long enough," Odin declared angrily. "The evil in his heart will twist his outer form to match, so that all will know what manner of _creature_ they look upon. He will no longer be able to fool anyone. It is no less than he deserves; all shall treat him as the despised monster he is!"

Loki began to struggle again, and to spit curses until one of the guards shoved their gauntleted hand into his mouth, effectively gagging him while his feet scrabbled uselessly against the stone. None of the other witnesses said anything, but Natasha could see the looks they shared back and forth.

"Let the records of the court show that I do this under _vehement_ protest," said the völva.

"As do I," said Tyr. "This sentence does not adhere to the law."

"You will find that it does," said Odin, "though it has not been practiced in some time."

The general clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring as he drew himself up. "I still protest! I would leave now, and encourage everyone else here to do the same, and nullify your power to do this thing, if I did not think you would only find others to take our places who have fewer scruples about whether justice is served. I can see that you will have this so-called sentence carried out whether it is just or not."

"Then let it be done." Loki screamed, or gargled really, muffled as he was with the guard's fingers halfway down his throat, but Odin ignored him and indicated one of the guards. "You," he said. "Draw your blade, cut his forearm so that the blood flows freely, then the rest of you throw him into the circle."

It took all eight of them to knock Loki off-balance enough to make him fall forward, toward the metal boundary, gasping for breath through his nose and fighting every inch of the way. Natasha spared a quick glance at Thor and saw that he had tears rolling down his cheeks, his fists clenched at his sides, but still refused to move or say anything to stop this. Nearly all the witnesses looked deeply disturbed, although whether it was at Odin's choice of punishment, Tyr's interruption, or Loki's undignified behavior, she couldn't say.

Finally they picked Loki up and bodily threw him past the edge of the ring in the floor; he landed hard, and the instant his bloodied forearm touched the stone, every painted sigil lit up with blinding light.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the enchantment kicks in, and our little old witch lady gets a bit miffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank you all for the response to the first chapter. I'm getting really spoiled by all the AO3 love. And my ego is getting stroked to where I almost want to attempt to write my own original work and try to publish someday. I've never wanted to do that before.
> 
> ANYway. So. Back-to-school threw off my daily rhythm, which made it hard for me to get back into the groove on the other fics I'm working on, so I turned to a prompt fill to get me back into the swing of things. This story IS complete, although a comment from last chapter led me to come back and probably tweak some descriptive things in Chapter 3 and 4, so I WILL be posting the next two chapters on Sunday and Monday, and then hopefully I'll be ready to get back into Fate's Guardian and Grievance. You all have been very patient while I left you hangin', and I really appreciate it.

_Finally they picked Loki up and bodily threw him past the edge of the ring in the floor; he landed hard, and the instant his bloodied forearm touched the stone, every painted sigil lit up with blinding light._ Whatever else the magic did, it was utterly noiseless: Natasha heard Loki gasp, while she shielded her eyes; a moment later, she heard him say, "Oh," as if in quiet surprise, but there was no other sound from inside the circle.

Finally the light faded, the runes going back to a sullen glow like hot coals. Everyone in the room was blinking away afterimages except for the old woman, who was staring into the circle with wide eyes.

Loki lay huddled face-down on the floor, apparently naked, and his skin now was a dull blue-gray. He was covered by what seemed to be a network of sickly purple energy, skittering up and down along his entire body, except for his head. There Natasha could see three glowing knives the color of bile, which appeared to pierce his skull. Glimmering… ropes? Chains, maybe? spread out from his body in different directions, stopping at the very edge of the circle but seeming to point at specific people among the gathered witnesses. A wispy red one was aimed directly at Natasha's feet, and another toward Tony across the way. A sturdier one of pale blue-gray, mixed with red and purple, pointed at Clint. A thick band of blue, purple, red, and gold was stretched taut in Thor's direction; another one, mostly dark blue but appearing somehow oily, went part of the way between Odin and Loki before seeming to crumble at its end.

"Völva," said Odin calmly. "Read the changes."

"How dare you," breathed the völva. She tore her gaze away from Loki's prone form to stare at the king. "Damn you, Odin the Deceiver, Odin Betrayer. You misbegotten son of a warmongering rapist. How _dare_ you violate the law in such a blatant way? Oathbreaker. _Nithing."_

Every Asgardian in the room actually jolted at that last insult, whatever it meant, even Odin. "You would dare speak to me in such a fashion?" he demanded.

"You know the law, and you willfully broke it in the name of vengeance!" she cried. "Law older than Asgard herself. Law handed down from the Norns who forged your very soul. And you would spit in their faces like this, and then sit there in your little chair and act offended by _me?"_

Odin clenched his fist as leaned forward on the wooden throne, and made to gesture at the guards, but the woman stopped him with a slash of her hand through the air. There was a shimmer of blue light, and the king froze motionless. The guards halted, hands on their weapons but eyes fearful as they looked back and forth.

"Hear me, Odin Borson, Oathbreaker and Betrayer: the Volur withdraw their blessings from this place," she said, nearly vibrating with rage. "For as long as you remain king, this land will be _cursed_. Your luck will turn against you. The valor of your warriors will fail. The crops of your lands and the wombs of your women shall wither. Friends shall turn their backs upon you and your enemies will multiply and grow strong. The Norns shall exact retribution for this crime, Oathbreaker King, and if your people are very, _very_ lucky, the _malediction_ you have brought upon your realm will last only so long as you rule."

Thor stared back and forth between the two elders with fright in his eyes, before he seemed to gather his courage and step forward. "Völva," he said, with a voice that shook only a little. "Please explain."

"You know the law yourself, prince, or you should: _No man may be brought before the court_ ," she recited, " _not to be tried nor judged nor sentenced nor condemned, so long as he is known to be under the enchantment of another_."

"You are saying that… that my brother was under enchantment," said Thor, and the mix of hope and dread in his eyes was painful for Natasha to see.

"He still is, and Odin knew it."

The gathered witnesses shifted in their seats and began to whisper. Thor glanced at them all as if he'd forgotten they were there, and especially at the four younger witnesses. "Can you reverse it?"

"I can, with effort," said the völva. "Give me a moment to gather my strength, and I shall begin." She stepped around to where her basket still sat, next to Natasha on the bench, and began to rummage through it. "Mm. Since this is no longer a sentencing and Odin does not deserve the respect one owes to an impartial judge, I hereby lift the command of silence upon this chamber. You may all speak among yourselves or ask me questions while I prepare. But stay in your seats, and let none break the barrier of the circle until I grant leave."

There was a hesitation, then a few people began to talk quietly among themselves; cautiously, Natasha thought, as if they were reluctant to break such a long-standing taboo.

General Tyr leaned forward. "If it is truly the case that Odin knew of this enchantment upon Loki," he said, "then this sentencing is invalid, is it not?"

The old woman snorted. "It was invalid before it began," she said, "but you already suspected as much when you learned what the Betrayer planned to do to his own son." She pulled some dried herbs out of the basket and bit down on them with a grimace. "Everything that has transpired since Thor brought him back to Asgard, General, from his initial imprisonment through his interrogation, trial, and sentencing, is invalid." She scowled, her face twisting in disgust. "That assumes there even _was_ a trial. I never heard of one, and as vindictive and smug as the old bastard was acting, I would not be surprised if he'd chosen to _ignore_ that little step, and skip right to the good part."

Thor shifted uneasily. "Völva," he said thoughtfully, "how do you know that Loki is under enchantment? And if it is relevant, what did Odin mean when he commanded you to 'read the changes'? Was that something to do with this rune work?" The völva had told the humans this, Natasha recalled, but the Asgardian witnesses would have had no idea what Odin had meant.

"You may be forgiven for not knowing this," said the woman. She dusted her palms with a pale yellow powder, then marked it across her forehead and under her eyes. "You are not skilled in the arts of seidr yourself, and you do not wield Gungnir, which could show such things to you. Odin has neither excuse." She indicated Loki. "The king, your father, commanded me just now to read the changes that these runes would work upon him because many of the changes are symbolic, to represent aspects of the inner self of the person affected. Do you understand?"

"No, lady, I do not."

"Mm." She finally pulled a tiny silver knife from the basket and tucked it into the belt of her robes, and dropped a necklace of chunky amber beads over her head; with a decisive nod, she stepped back from the bench and returned to her spot opposite the throne. "He told you that Loki would be changed, and perhaps you had some idea of what that might look like. There are certain representations in theater and art, for example, that tell you what a greedy person is supposed to look like. The grasping hands, the hungry expression. We can imagine the characteristics of envy, hunched and glaring. But what of pain, or betrayal? How do you represent, oh, a sense of humor, or patience? How would selflessness alter your shape, or love of battle, if such things were forced out of your heart and into your body? So most of the changes are symbolic. A lot of them are only visible for as long as he remains in the circle." She nodded at Loki, who hadn't even twitched since the enchantment had first taken effect. "Those sickly blades you see stabbing into his head, those are three separate geases."

Sounds of dismay from a few people in the room. The humans all just looked confused.

Steve put his hand up, like a boy in school, and despite the tension, Nat hid a smile. "Ma'am, would you mind telling us what a geas is? Some of us have never heard of any of this stuff."

"A geas is a magical command that cannot be broken by the person upon whom it is placed," said the woman. "Holy vows are a form of geas, which the person takes on willingly. Your people have stories of men being sent on difficult quests as penance for some crime or another; those orders, 'do not return until you have found the legendary treasure' or some such, can be enforced with a geas. They can be a prohibition against a single specific act, or a sweeping command that alters a person's entire life while they struggle to accommodate its restrictions. Or both; 'never eat meat' would be an example of that."

"Are you able to tell what commands are hidden here?" asked another man, older, with a beard to his waist.

"No," said the völva, "but I don't need to know that to remove them. Loki might be able to tell us what they were after I've taken them out, but he might not. Now then." As before, she hitched up her robes and stepped daintily across the boundary of the circle; the powder on her hands left yellow smudges on the fabric. She stooped and worked her way down to her knees beside Loki's head, and rested her hand carefully where it wouldn't disturb the knives. The beads of her necklace clicked against the stone as she leaned forward. "Loki? My prince? Can you hear me?"

The room fell quiet once more, and after a moment, they heard a soft "Nn," as Loki stirred.

"Are you in any pain, my prince?"

"N-no…" Loki shifted, or tried to. "Heavy. Tired… Am I dead?"

The völva chuckled. "No, child. I am here to help. How does your head feel?"

Loki sighed. "Heavy. Can't… can't lift it. Too heavy."

"Mm, and I can see why. I am going to do something about that, all right? It will hurt, but I promise I will heal along behind me as I go. Are you ready?"

There was a long pause. "Will you not kill me?" That… wasn't quite the response Natasha would have expected from him. Sure, he was stunned from whatever the magic had done to him, but something didn't add up.

"No, my child, no. I am here to help you. I will try to free you."

Another sigh. "No one can free me. No one will." Across from her, Natasha saw Steve frowning.

"We shall see about that, hm? Now. As I said, this will hurt, but it will help you. All right?"

"…'Kay."

The völva took hold of one of the knives and began to slowly pull it out of Loki's head. Natasha could certainly see where this was symbolic, since a real knife wound like that would have left him dead, or at the very least far too damaged to speak clearly. Loki grunted, and shifted a little, but the völva shushed him and continued pulling until the first blade was free. The blade was nearly a foot long, once it was out. Immediately she turned and smacked it on the stone floor, and it shattered with a noise like wet pottery; the shards dissolved into nothing and disappeared, leaving behind a smell that was a blend of burning hair and rotting meat.

"How is that, my prince?"

Loki breathed deeply, and lifted his hand toward his head; the völva caught it before he could touch and do any damage. "The Tesseract," he said sleepily, and Natasha saw nearly every person in the room go tense. "I was supposed to bring it… I didn't want to. Tried to fail. I don't want the Tesseract. Don't need it. _He_ needs it, but I don't."

"Who is 'he', Loki?" asked the woman.

"He's… he—I-I can't…" Loki stirred again, and she rested a hand between his shoulders to hold him still until he subsided.

"Hush, now, child. It's all right. Be still." She took hold of the second blade and began to pull; this time Loki was more awake, and he cried out before biting back the sound. Natasha watched his fists clench against the stone floor. "Do you need me to stop?"

"No," gasped Loki. "Get… get rid of it. Take it all."

She pulled the blade free smoothly, and it seemed to Natasha that there was a flare of green light that came with it as it left his head. Again the broken pottery, again the rotten stench. Natasha heard somebody gag a little at the smell.

"Thanos!" Loki panted… and several people in the room cried out in shock. "Thanos comes. The Titan. He's in the Void, I saw him. He, he did—things…" Loki made a sound that might have been a sob. "H-he's coming. He wants the Infinity Stones. The, the Gauntlet. I can't—I have to stop him, I have to—don't let him have the Tesseract. Don't let _me_ have it. He'll make me _take_ it to him, I can't—I can't—"

"Shh, sh-sh-shhh, hush now. Hush now, my prince, you did well. The Tesseract is safe."

"What?" Loki's skin, a dull blue-gray before, was brighter now, almost translucent. "Wh-what? Safe? How?"

You were on Midgard, from what I hear," said the völva. "Thor found you, and the Tesseract with you, and brought you both back to Asgard."

"What of Midgard?" he asked, and Natasha glanced over to see Clint staring hard at Loki's hands, his teeth grinding together.

"What do you mean, my prince?" asked the völva.

"Need to warn… they're defenseless, th-they don't even know the other realms exist… need to alert them…"

"That's already done," she soothed, running her hand through his hair.

"Done? It's… oh. Oh, yes," Loki responded, settling. "Yes, I remember. Theater. I tried… tried to fail. Drew their attention. Left clues. Poor tactics. Did I fail? Did the humans respond in time?"

"They did, my prince. You did well."

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," muttered Clint. Natasha leaned into him for a second to help ground him, a little.

"One more, my prince," said the völva. "It will hurt."

"I know," he said. "Take it out."

She began to pull, and Loki cried out, flailing one hand in the air until the old woman caught it and squeezed tight. He groaned, low and long, his bare toes curling up in reaction. It came free with another flash of green light; Loki cried out again, gasping for breath.

This time, when the blade shattered, there was a ringing, metallic chime, and the smell was something closer to pine needles or cloves; sharp, not quite sweet, but not unpleasant.

"That one was mine," Loki said between breaths. "That was mine. To resist Thanos. Give him nothing. He wanted… I don't know if I was strong enough. I tried. I tried. He wanted Asgard's weaknesses. He w-wanted Thor. I couldn't… I don't know if it worked."

"It was well-made and strong, my prince," said the völva. "Even now, it resisted coming free." She patted his head, and Natasha thought she saw a flicker of blue light under her palms. "Rest for a moment, child. Be still. There is one more enchantment I must lift, and perhaps another hiding under that, but they will not be so painful. They may itch, a little."

"All right," breathed Loki. "All right."

"Be still." And the woman somehow reached her fingers into the glowing purple plasma crawling all up and down Loki's body, and _pulled_ ; there was a tearing sound as the purple dissipated, but the only smell was a little dusty. She pulled once more, and tore, and the last of the filaments vanished from Loki's skin.

"Oh. Oh, I see now. Memories," breathed Loki. "Odin wanted me to forget…"

"Hush, child. Rest."

The runes in the floor were beginning to glow again, and the völva struggled to her feet and out of the circle. As soon as she left, the light flared high; this time, the only sound Natasha heard was a deep sigh from Loki that sounded almost like relief.

"One geas to obey the Titan, and another to resist him?" she heard a man say. "It is a wonder the conflict between them did not drive him mad."

"Perhaps it did," said someone else, a woman. "You saw how he was, when Thor brought him back."

"I cannot believe the All-Father would do such a thing knowingly," somebody murmured.

"I can," another man replied, and several others hummed in agreement.

The light dimmed, and after Natasha blinked away the afterimages, she found herself staring in astonishment at what she saw in the center of the circle. It was still Loki's size and shape, but the skin now was the clear, bright blue of glacial ice; pure, but with myriad white cracks throughout the surface, as if it had broken apart and refrozen with new water seeped into the gaps. Even despite the crazed surface, the ice was translucent, and behind it—inside it, somehow—a healthy flame glowed red and gold.

Loki, if it was still really him, stirred, then pushed himself upright, sitting with his legs curled to the side to preserve his modesty. He kept his head down, studying his new hands; his hair fell around his face, no longer simply dark but an absolute pitch-black, with iridescence that shimmered between indigo and deep teal as he moved. He flexed his fingers a few times, curling and uncurling, then made a tentative gesture, and brilliant green swirled through the ice, spiraling around the core flame, curling up from his feet and down through his arms.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. Alien, yes; but at the same time, almost familiar, as if instincts Natasha hadn't known she possessed were somehow able to recognize the sight in front of her, and respond to it with a sort of fluttery, breathless awe. _Joy_ , even. Given her upbringing, all her years of training, Natasha couldn't honestly say she had ever felt like this, even in the too-brief time in her childhood when she had still been innocent and full of wonder.

Clint seemed to read her mind, as he often did. "Somehow I don't think that's what Odin was going for," he mumbled.

"Me neither," said Natasha.

"Loki?" asked Thor, hushed. "Brother?"

The man twisted, and there was a sound of creaking ice, or like the squeak of fresh snow underfoot. On his back and chest, deep gashes and cuts were revealed as he turned, including one that was perfectly placed to be a stab wound to the heart. All the injuries, if that was what they were, glowed from the fire hidden underneath. Around Loki's hips, the green light coalesced in a flickering line like smoldering paper; it crept across his skin and clothing materialized in its wake, loose black trousers that at least kept him decent… even if it did seem almost sacrilegious to hide any of the near-angelic being in front of them.

Loki's eyes were another surprise—twin embers, without pupil or iris, that glowed bright red when he looked up. "I thought it would hurt more," he said dazedly.

"Are you all right?" Thor stepped down off the dais, and only the völva's quick reminder kept him from stepping into the circle. At his feet, the colored band Natasha had noticed before shifted as he moved, as if the two men were connected by chains of magic.

Oh, right. Symbolic. Natasha wondered what was represented there, and why there would be similar bands leading from Loki to her feet, and Clint's and Tony's.

Gracefully, Loki rose to his feet. "I… I feel strange," he said, glancing at his hands. " _Lighter_. The geases are gone… and there was something…" He turned, searching for the old woman. "What else did you—?" He cut himself off, and the fire hidden in the ice flared briefly. "You won't answer my questions."

"Nonsense," said the völva, raising her eyebrows. "I would rather answer yours than the Betrayer's."

"Betrayer?" He ducked his head in thought. "The sentence. It is unlawful to bring someone to trial when they are under enchantment."

"Indeed."

He jerked around to face Odin—never turn your back on an opponent—and then stopped and stared, since the king was still seated with one hand in the air, motionless as a statue. "What did you do to him?"

"Oh, he is unharmed. He can still see and hear you. I merely shut him up for a little while," said the völva with satisfaction. "He dared to involve a servant of the Norns in carrying out a potentially barbaric sentence, while willfully breaking some of their oldest laws. He tried to order me around more than once before you were brought in, my prince, and would have tried to explain away the very _visible_ enchantments upon you once the runes revealed them. I have had quite enough of his misbehavior, and I invoked my authority to put a stop to it."

Off to the side, General Tyr cleared his throat. "We will need to decide what to do with him before we all leave this place," he said. "You… may not have been aware, Loki, when she discovered the geases upon you. The Volur will curse Asgard, and we may well face a revolution, if we do not," he cleared his throat again, "if we do not replace Odin as king, or… or enact some other form of justice that may satisfy them."

Well. Things just got interesting. Natasha had come here with the other Avengers to watch a sentencing, and now it looked like they would be in on the ground floor of a palace coup.

"And there is the matter of Loki's trial, which must be revisited completely," said the man with the long beard. They all turned to listen to him. "I hesitate to say it, but I have my doubts now that Odin even held a trial in the first place. Otherwise there would have been a record of these enchantments having been discovered, and they would have been removed before it came to this."

"I agree, Forseti," said someone across the way. "It is becoming clearer, to me at least, that Odin wished to remove his son permanently, and to discredit him first, without anyone else learning of the concealed enchantments. One wonders what else he was trying to hide."

"These runes have revealed much that was hidden," said Thor. "Völva, will you read the rest?"

Loki whirled, glowing eyes wide; the blue of his… skin?... paled to almost yellow for an instant, and the gashes along his torso appeared to grow larger. "Why would you do this? You, who begged me to come home, a-and claimed to mourn me for dead?"

Thor reached out to put a hand on Loki's shoulder, then looked at the boundary of the circle and stopped himself. "Brother. I do not do this out of malice. Fa— _Odin_ wished it, to further humiliate you, expecting that it would reveal some hidden evil within you. His enchantment had the opposite effect from what he anticipated. I wish it so that we may see what else he has concealed."

"You would still see me laid bare, regardless of your motive!"

"Loki, child," said the völva, "I already know the meaning of these changes." Ice creaked again as Loki spun to look at her, and even with the ice-blue of his face, and the strangeness of his eyes, Natasha could still see more emotion in his expression that he had revealed in his entire time on earth. The fire inside him leaped and flared, his eyes burning and fretful as he took in the gathered witnesses, all staring at the scene in front of them. "And what I see, my prince, is lovely to behold. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I cannot declare guilt or innocence from these signs, but I can certainly say that the evil Odin claimed as motivation for your actions is entirely absent."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the fortune-teller gives her reading, Natasha notices things, uncomfortable decisions are reached, and Odin is perhaps mildly displeased.

_"Loki, child," said the völva, "I already know the meaning of these changes." Ice creaked again as Loki spun to look at her, and even with the ice-blue of his face, and the strangeness of his eyes, Natasha could still see more emotion in his expression that he had revealed in his entire time on earth. The fire inside him leaped and flared, his eyes burning and fretful as he took in the gathered witnesses, all staring at the scene in front of them. "And what I see, my prince, is lovely to behold. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I cannot declare guilt or innocence from these signs, but I can certainly say that the evil Odin claimed as motivation for your actions is entirely absent."_

Colors danced and whirled across the surface of Loki's skin as he swallowed hard, green energy and gold flame, and the red glow in his chest and eyes. Natasha hadn't realized before, but the light from the torches seemed to catch him strangely, giving highlights that changed color unpredictably, pale yellow and shades of mauve, glints of red, shifting even though Loki did not move. His eyes darted to the woman, to the energy bands on the floor, back up to the assembled witnesses. "Get it over with," he said finally. "If you please."

"Very well." The woman drew herself up and tucked her hands into her sleeves, and although she addressed the rest of the room, didn't take her eyes off Loki the entire time. "First, the bands you see on the floor; they will only be visible until Loki leaves the circle, and as you might guess they represent connections that Loki has with various people here in this chamber. The thicker bands, naturally, represent a stronger, deeper connection."

Clint took a noisy breath in through his nose.

"Now for the colors; these simple bands, here," she pointed to the one at Natasha's feet, "carry the red of respect, and nothing more. Loki has had some interaction with you that, given what he was up to on Midgard, likely caused him to pronounce you worthy opponents." She glanced across at Tony. "Should you choose to further associate with him, I would say that this mutual respect is a good place to start."

 _Oh, no_ , thought Natasha. _Don't encourage him._ If anyone were to try and make friends with Loki after this, it _would_ be Tony.

"This one," the woman continued, indicating the rope that led to Clint, "carries that same respect, tempered with the blue-gray of guilt, and the purple of sorrow or regret."

"Don't," said Clint. Neither he nor Loki were looking anywhere near one another, and Clint was as tense as one of his own bowstrings. Interestingly, the highlights across Loki's ice now were gray and purple themselves.

"As you wish," said the völva. "But understand that Loki is not proud of whatever has gone between you." Clint didn't answer, so she continued. "Quite a thickly-woven braid connects Loki to Thor; frayed a bit about the edges, but still strong with centuries of interaction and shared memories. Respect, sorrow, along with the blue of loyalty and the gold of love. You have caused each other pain, to be sure, but your relationship does not primarily consist of it. Whatever has gone between the two of _you_ can be mended, stronger than before, if you both wish it and make a genuine effort.

"And then we have _this_ foul thing."

Loki tore his eyes away from the völva to turn and look at the connection between him and Odin. "You can see the blue of loyalty, even now," she said, "woven through with glimpses of the red and gold that used to dominate; however, the colors are drained of their former vitality, and the entire bond between them is tainted with betrayal, corruption, and deceit; that is the thick oily tar that coats it. Note how the link is severed at one end, and it is not the part closest to Loki. Whatever Loki may feel for the man he has always called father, it is clear Odin does not return it. This does not surprise me. You may recall that after I removed the geases, Loki still wore something like purple cobwebs, which I also tore away; those were two more spells, meant to control Loki in some lesser fashion, and I recognized the taste and smell of Odin's seidr in them."

The witnesses all murmured at that, shifting in their seats and trading significant looks. "Völva?" called General Tyr. "Can you tell us the nature of those enchantments? Or perhaps can you, Loki? When she first removed them, you said something about memories. Something Odin wanted you to forget."

The flame in Loki's body dimmed as he cleared his throat. "I… I am not Odin's son by birth," he said finally. "I do not know if this knowledge has been made public." He shifted his weight, and the highlights on his skin changed to the pale tan of sandstone. The effect was very subtle; Natasha wondered if anyone else had noticed the changes, or remembered what the old woman had said about Loki's inner self being exposed for all to see.

Maybe you just had to go looking for it.

"It is not widely discussed, my prince," said the general, "but there are rumors that began to spread following your—well, your _supposed_ —death." It took a moment for Natasha to recall that Thor said Loki had been missing, presumed dead, for roughly a year before he arrived on Earth.

"Thor mentioned once that you were adopted," said Tony. Loki's shoulders hunched, and Tony grimaced a little. "We were trying to figure out your motives."

Loki only nodded stiffly. "I do not know if anyone has mentioned that I am not even Aesir," he said haltingly. "But with Odin's spell removed, I now have _two_ memories of the time I first discovered I was… Jotun." The flame in his chest was shrinking and dimming with every passing second.

"And for us humans in the crowd, what does that mean?" asked Tony.

"It is a different species," said one of the younger witnesses; blond, with a carefully trimmed beard. "As Aesir are different from humans, and live on a different world, so are Jotnar different from us." He cleared his throat, uncomfortably. "We, er, don't exactly have a friendly history between us."

"Loki," said the young woman sitting next to him, "what do you mean 'discovered'? Did you truly not know?"

The glow of Loki's flame expanded back to its previous size. "Did you?"

"No, of course not. You have lived here since infancy. All believed you to have been born to Frigga, the same as Thor." She licked her lip. "Thor only learned of it after you fell, and confided in the four of us. So far as I know, no one else has been told."

Loki seemed relieved by this. "I tell you now, Sif, that the skin you have seen me in for my entire life is the one I believed to be my own," he replied.

"Skin," put in Bruce. "Does that mean you don't really even look the way we think you do?"

"Jotnar are quite different from us in appearance," said the blond. "…Actually, they are somewhat similar to the way Loki looks now; blue skin, red eyes. It's, er, not a perfect likeness—for one thing, they don't _glow_ , and they're generally about three or four feet taller—but this is not too drastically different."

"So, Odin disguised you, somehow?" asked Bruce.

"He may have. Or possibly I'm an instinctual shape shifter, on top of everything else." The green light flared along Loki's arms again, arcing like plasma from his shoulders down his torso. "To answer what is probably your next question, I only found out myself after we went to Jotunheim; confirmed it a few hours after Thor was banished." There was an unhappy murmur, and he raised his voice. "But with Odin's spell gone, I also remember discovering it much earlier, when we were still children."

Forseti spoke up. "As children? But that means…"

"It _may_ not have been malicious," said General Tyr, although to Natasha he didn't sound like he really believed that. "Parents hide things from children for their own good. Although, most parents would not resort to casting spells that violate a child's free will."

"And I do not see where one could claim welfare as a motive for hiding a child's own _species_ ," said someone else. Loki blinked; his hands were clenching and unclenching nervously, and the pale sandstone highlights were shifting between silver-gray, yellow, and purple, but whatever other reaction he was expecting from his audience, he didn't get it.

"When did you _truly_ first discover it, brother?" asked Thor.

"Do you remember the day that Odin took us down to the vaults for the first time, and showed us some of the treasures there, and told us of the war with Jotunheim? How we came into possession of the Casket of Ancient Winters?" Natasha raised an eyebrow despite herself; people from Asgard apparently were big on elaborate names and titles for things. They couldn't just say "king", they had to call him the "All-Father." It wasn't just a war trophy, it was "The Casket of Ancient Winters."

"So long ago?"

"It was," nodded Loki. "I… My skills with seidr were not strongly developed yet, but while we were there, the Casket seemed to _sing_ to me, to pull at my attention. That night, after we were supposed to be in bed, I snuck back down to the vaults." He shrugged, and Natasha heard again the faint creak of ice. "I put my hands on it, and my form changed. Odin caught me, of course."

"And he took your memory," said Forseti.

"He… I _believe_ he did more than that." The sunset glow inside Loki's body seemed agitated, somehow, brighter but seeming to shift and change shape as Loki spoke. The colors where the torchlight glinted across Loki's skin were changing too quickly for Natasha to track. "I… It feels like I dreamed it, now that the spell is gone. But if I think back, I can remember my envy of Thor beginning sometime shortly thereafter. Or perhaps it did not become envy until later. I could not remember my discovery, but I remembered feeling _inferior_ , in some manner which I could never quite articulate. It would only make sense for that to grow into resentment, over time."

The room fell silent as the witnesses took that in. Loki was heavily implying that his inferiority complex had been completely manufactured. Why would a parent want…?

"He was grooming you," she realized aloud. Everyone turned to stare at her, but she only looked across the way at Tony and raised her eyebrows.

Tony twisted his mouth in disgust. "Yeah, that tracks."

"What do you mean by this term?" asked the young woman. Sif, Loki had called her.

"A decent father wouldn't do something like that to their child," Natasha explained, "but Odin isn't just a father, he's a ruler. He adopted a child from a place that has given your people trouble in the past; you said you don't have friendly interactions with them. Why would he adopt a Jotun child, but then hide his heritage even from the child himself? The answer is because he wanted to use that heritage, somehow. Probably find a way to use it against the other Jotun people. But he also did something, assuming Loki remembers correctly and is telling the truth, to cause Loki to feel inferior to Thor, which eventually built up to resentment. Odin may not have planned for the resentment, and he may not have even cast a spell to create Loki's inferiority complex, but it fits the profile for him to have carefully worked to instill in Loki a desire to prove himself, likely to prove that he was just as good a son to Daddy as Thor was; he would have wanted Loki to have a desire to please his father in exchange for some crumbs of affection every now and again.

"Now extrapolate," she went on. "Odin is a ruler with a vested interest in strengthening his power base while subduing adversaries by any means possible. Thor is a prince. Loki is a prince. Odin is manipulating them to compete with one another, or at least manipulating Loki, if not Thor. How does a younger prince prove that he's just as good as the elder? By being just as good a _ruler_ when they both are old enough to inherit. My conclusion: Odin was planning to manipulate Loki into going back to the Jotun world and ruling there, while Thor ruled here. Once he'd established the pattern, Loki would fall into line and be a perfect puppet, running that world just like a miniature Odin, hoping to please his family and spend as much time as possible trying to figure out what he had done wrong to deserve that post, and what he could do to make things better."

A flash of red caught Natasha's attention, and she looked down to see the cord at her feet growing a bit less wispy. Glancing up, she saw that Loki had noticed it too, and was looking embarrassed, the highlights in his ice-blue skin changing to red, silver, and pale yellow as she watched. She couldn't resist smirking at him. "Not just a 'mewling quim' anymore?"

"By the Norns," said General Tyr.

"Politically, it could have worked," said Forseti. "Morally…"

"Morally, it is disgusting," said Sif, to vocal agreement from the others. "It is one thing to ask an adult son to rule over conquered territory, but to steal a child with no other intention but to shape him like some sort of tool?" She frowned at the Avengers.

"There is no honor in this," said one of the other witnesses.

"How could he have expected that to work, though?" asked an older woman. "The Jotnar may be primitive, but how could he have expected them to simply accept Loki as their puppet king?"

"After Thor was banished," said Loki carefully, "I discovered the truth for the second time. And once again, Odin found me. He told me then that I had been abandoned in a temple to die, and he claimed me out of mercy… and a desire to forge an alliance between Asgard and Jotunheim. I have no way to know the truth of this, but… he also told me I was Laufey's son."

Exclamations rang out on both sides of the circle, and Natasha even noticed a reaction from the guards who had first brought Loki in, and were now grouped unobtrusively over by the door.

"I know why he took you," said the völva, and if she had looked angry before, she looked positively murderous now. "And you were _not_ abandoned to die. In a temple? As the son of a king?" She turned her head and actually spat on the floor. "Lies."

"He said I was 'small for a giant's offspring'," said Loki (sandstone, purple, dark green). "He… _implied_ that I was left because I was too weak to survive."

"Hmph. Nonsense. I realize you warriors have only ever seen the largest of the Jotnar, because they are the ones who go to fight. But the Jotnar have a belief that may prove instructive. They believe that their creator and first ancestor, Ymir, was great in physical strength, great in character, and great in magic. They believe that only Ymir was perfect enough to display all three forms of greatness; all other Jotnar may only possess two." Her mouth quirked into a wry smile. "And of course, greatness of character is always one of them, because Jotnar are a proud people just as Aesir are."

"So a Jotun is either great in size and strength, or great in magic the way Loki is?" asked the young blond.

"And both would be respected by the Jotnar," added Sif.

"Loki," said the völva with satisfaction, "is one of the greatest sorcerers of the Nine Realms." (The blue of Loki's ice turned darker, with glints of orange and silver as he took a breath.) " _And_ the son of the Jotun king. Born at the very end of a desperate, bloody war with Asgard. Does anyone in this room think that their king would have been so _stupid_ as to leave such a one to die? That infant would have been beloved, _cherished_ as the greatest treasure in all Jotunheim."

"And Odin would have known it," said the general, folding his arms. He glowered at the still-immobilized king. "Stealing a child, to demoralize and subjugate a foe. Despicable."

"Uh, no offense," said Tony, scrubbing at his chin, "but how do you know he's such a great sorcerer? I mean, _we_ handled him pretty well. Unless you're trying to say you were holding back?"

"I was," said Loki simply (hint of orange). At the looks on the guys' faces, he added, "Thanos wanted me to subjugate your realm and establish a base from which he could invade the remaining eight realms after yours was destroyed. I, on the other hand, was trying very earnestly to fail." Flame swirled in his body as he added, "Given that I was under both a geas to obtain the Tesseract _and_ one prohibiting me from speaking of him to warn you, you may imagine it was a bit of a challenge."

"To answer your question," said the völva, "Loki's seidr—his magical energy and his ability to wield it—happens to be quite visible right now. Usually such a thing may only be seen by another user of seidr, and then often only if we are in a trance state and actively searching for it. My prince, would you show them?"

Loki raised his eyebrows at her, but lifted a hand and made some gesture. Instantly, the swirls of green light flared to life throughout his body, sweeping down his arm to coalesce in his hand as a brilliant green flame, dancing back and forth across his fingertips. "Your rune circle prevents me from doing much more than this," he said. "Does it suffice?"

"Child, I tell you now that I have never seen, nor is it anywhere recorded, that a person from any realm possessed as much seidr as you do." Natasha's hid a smile as the reflections across Loki's shoulders and cheeks moved rapidly between orange, peach, green, silver, blue, and red.

"What's so funny?" Clint whispered in her ear.

Loki can't lie, thought Natasha, then she sobered at what it would be like to have all her own defenses, all her own masks, stripped from her. "Tell you later."

"We were supposed to be reading the changes from the enchantment," said Forseti primly, "before we were distracted by Loki's tidings."

"Is there any chance Loki is not telling the truth?" asked Sif. She looked at Loki a bit sheepishly when he turned to scowl at her. How could no one else notice the way the flame in his torso leaped and danced, or the way the firelight shone pale yellow across his skin? Were they all so distracted by the blue ice and red eyes that they truly couldn't see anything else?

"The circle does not prevent it," said the völva, "but we would be able to see it if he did."

"Have I ever confessed to you, Sif, that I have been madly in love with you for centuries, but feared to reveal myself lest your rejection break my fragile heart?" Loki spoke the words with a smile on his face, but as he did, the highlights along his body shifted to green and peach, and the inside of his mouth began to glow bright pink, until it looked like he was exhaling colored fog with every word.

The witnesses chuckled. "I would not have believed that even without this enchantment," Sif said, "but I see your point."

"What else can you read, völva?" asked Thor. When Loki spared him an annoyed, ember-eyed glare, he shrugged. "I would see you vindicated, brother," he said. "I would have all these people know you as I have known you, and would learn for myself what I have failed to see and cherish in you, in my hubris and arrogance."

Loki blinked at that, clearly caught off-guard, and the two brothers held each other's gaze searchingly before Loki (blue, gold, rose) finally nodded.

"The seeming ice of Loki's form indicates someone who is, hmm, I suppose it is ironic to say 'cool' in their approach to the world," said the völva, "whereas someone like Thor would more likely show as red or orange, fur or flame, under this enchantment. It is not, as you might first think, an indicator of his Jotun heritage. Loki is not as quick to make a decision or dive into a new enterprise as some might be; he wishes to learn more about the endeavor first, explore options, and above all, _think_ about things. That said, he has fire in his core, where his heart and emotions reside, and can be moved to act impulsively if his passions are roused. The blue color is actually an indicator of Loki's most fundamental trait: his loyalty. If you have Loki's trust, or his promise of aid, or even his interest, he will show you dedication beyond what you may eventually deserve. Loyalty and dedication to friends, to family, to his studies; Loki may take time to choose to devote his energies toward someone or something, but once he has chosen, he does not let go easily. Not of what is important to him."

Loki glanced down; the torchlight licked sandstone, peach, and green across his skin. Natasha wasn't sure about all the colors' meanings just yet, but she was pretty sure the sandstone was discomfort or even fear. The peach, she'd thought, meant something more pleasant, happiness or pride or something similar.

"Now, the wounds on his back—"

"Wounds?" Loki interrupted her.

"You, uh, have several, what look to be gashes on your back, across your shoulders and about halfway down your ribs," said Steve. "And on your chest, there. They don't hurt?"

"I'd imagine not," said Natasha. "There's one that is a perfect example of a stab wound to the heart." The glow inside Loki's body flared in agitation, and Natasha shrugged. "Symbolic. Somebody stabbed you in the back."

Oh. Purple highlights across the blue ice. They'd already been told what that color meant.

"Pain, and yes, betrayal," said the völva. "Loss. Grief. They all wound us. That such things are visible upon Loki's person indicates that they have not yet healed." Loki folded his arms and looked away, clearly uncomfortable; Natasha didn't even need to read the colors shifting across his skin to tell that. "But the most interesting thing to me," she went on, "is the pattern of white cracks in the ice. Something occurred, once upon a time, which literally _shattered_ Loki, his very sense of identity compromised… and yet, the white marks are where new ice has formed. He had the strength to piece himself back together, in a very real sense. The ice will always bear the scars of the original injury, but it is just as solid now as it always was."

Loki didn't say anything in reply, but the flame in his chest fluttered even though he was holding perfectly still; after a second, the green light flared along Loki's body, and materialized more clothing to cover him almost completely. No helmet, but an elaborate outfit topped with a full-length coat with a high collar, and polished boots.

"Respectfully, völva, I think you've quite finished," he said in measured tones, his arms still crossed. (The highlights across his hands and face were harder to spot, but still visible in sandstone and gray.)

The old woman looked at him kindly. "I agree, child," she said.

"Am I to be released from this circle, or returned to my cell?"

"Your imprisonment is invalid," rumbled General Tyr. "Now that you've been freed of enchantment, it would be necessary to convene a new trial."

"Technically I am still under an enchantment," said Loki, showing them his icy hands.

"Hm. To be honest, young man, at the moment I am less concerned about your actions than I am about Odin's," said Forseti. "It is clear that he knowingly broke ancient law when he brought you here to be sentenced. That is not an affront the Norns will tolerate; the völva herself was angry enough at him to curse all Asgard, to blight us until he is no longer king."

"You're talking about overthrowing the All-Father," said the young blond witness.

"He overthrew himself!" said someone else, to a rumble of agreement. "When he broke the law so blatantly, he broke faith with Asgard's people. He betrayed his own son, we know not why but it cannot have been for any _worthy_ reason. As of that moment, he _is_ no longer king. The only question now is what manner of justice we must deliver to him, and whether Thor is ready to take his place."

Thor, for his part, looked a little stunned. "I? Surely you cannot mean—"

"You are heir to the throne," said the older woman who had spoken before; "it is all well and good to have your little adventures on Midgard from time to time, but eventually you must take up the mantle of responsibility. It is only because your coronation was interrupted last time that you are not king now."

"Interrupted because Loki saw that I was not ready!" said Thor.

"Actually…" Everyone turned back to Loki, who was staring at the floor and frowning. "I'm… no longer so certain that was me."

"What do you mean?"

"I—perhaps it was the spell that Odin had placed upon me. There was more than one… and I know the first was to hide my discovery of my heritage." He brought his hands up to trace across his lips, then finally looked up. "I remember being responsible for letting the Jotnar into the vault, but thinking on it now, I do not remember _actually doing_ it… and now, I _also_ remember being every bit as surprised as the rest of you were, when the ceremony was disrupted. I don't—" he shook his head. "It is too flimsy to use as testimony in any sort of trial, I will not accuse, but… does not the timing for such an interruption seem _suspiciously_ perfect?"

"You're saying Odin did it and altered your memories to take the fall," said Tony.

"I will _not_ say Odin was the one to do it," insisted Loki. "I do not _know_ if it was he or not. I am saying I no longer know that it was _I_ who did it, either." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated (pale yellow across his knuckles). "For all I know, he influenced me in some way so that I _did_ do it but only at his direction!"

"We cannot try Loki in this condition," said Forseti. "One of those enchantments was altering his mind for centuries! He will need to be thoroughly examined and possibly healed before we can go forward."

"Which brings us back to Odin," said the older woman. "We have enough evidence for a trial against him, and enough witnesses present to render a judgment even without his vote to decide."

"He must be permitted to speak in his own defense," someone said.

"Why, when he has already lied about this?"

The witnesses from Asgard began to talk over one another, agitated, while the witnesses from Earth all just sort of looked at each other and shrugged.

"Enough of this," said General Tyr loudly. "None of us has asked the important question: what does His Highness think?"

The room fell silent, and everyone looked to Thor, who only stared back at Loki, utterly lost.

Loki raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. "If you're asking me for suggestions…" he said. (Sandstone and blue, and gold. Always gold, Natasha realized, when he looked at his brother.)

"You know I am, brother," Thor replied. "Please."

"Then I would suggest that you set half these guards at the door, and the rest to surround Odin. The völva will remove the enchantment that keeps him immobile, and preferably, also the one that keeps me trapped in the center here like a mead-hall dancing girl." The witnesses chuckled, half-heartedly but it did at least break the tension a little. "Odin will face your questions and be made to answer them. I will keep myself out of the interrogation, unless you specifically desire me to participate. I have, after all, a rather obvious conflict of interest in the matter."

Thor nodded decisively, and with no small amount of visible relief. "Let it be done." He stepped back up onto the dais, and as he turned back to face everyone, caught Loki's eyes. "Thank you, brother."

Loki moved across the circle to the gap between the dais and the bench, where he'd first been thrown into it. Natasha hadn't noticed before now, but there was a clear break in the painted designs there, with rows of arrows pointing towards it on either side. It wasn't like the Black Widow program had included any information on magic, but if she had to guess, she would say that maybe magic circles had built-in doors of their own… however that worked.

The völva waited until everyone was in position, then muttered a few words under her breath and spread her hands apart, fingers stretched wide. Loki stepped out of the circle.

Odin launched himself at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Odin gets his (come on, you had to know this was coming), we learn what Frigga has been up to, and figure out where to go from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am possibly the neediest, most codependent fic author ever to auth... I was being all mopey yesterday about how few comment the previous chapter got, before reminding myself that A: it was Sunday and most people don't actually live online like I do, and B: any comment at all is one to be grateful for. I swear, this s why I could never write a real, published novel; I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't getting my fragile ego stroked every couple of days by you wonderful people.

_The völva waited until everyone was in position, then muttered a few words under her breath and made a sweeping gesture with both hands. Loki stepped out of the circle._

_Odin launched himself at him._

Witnesses were leaping out of the way as the two men grappled. Odin was snarling and growling like an animal, and when the guards tried to pull him off of Loki, he elbowed one in the throat and the man went down, choking.

Thor threw himself into the fray. "Father, no! What are you—stop this, you are insane!"

There was a burst of gold magic that threw Thor, the other guards on Odin, and several of the closest spectators back until they all struck the chamber walls. Whether Loki was just in a good spot or if it was because he had magic of his own, he managed to keep a hold, and the two of them tumbled back onto the dais. The wooden throne was quickly toppled and kicked aside as they rolled.

Everyone was scrambling to get out of the way, and the Avengers ended up crowded together at the opposite side of the room. "Bruce, you okay?" someone asked.

"I'm fine, I can't—whatever she did to me, I can't Hulk out," he said breathlessly.

"We're outmatched in this fight anyway," said Tony. "We're unarmed and we're all pretty much vanilla humans."

Well, Natasha wasn't unarmed, but she didn't need to point that out when Tony was right. Against all the super-strength space Vikings in the room, they wouldn't stand a chance. Several non-combatants joined them at this side of the chamber, helping their companions who had been knocked down, while Thor's friends seemed uncertain whether to dive in and help, thus attacking their king, or stay out of it, thus potentially letting Thor's brother come to harm. Mostly they were busy tending to the fallen guard and to Thor, who apparently had hit the wall the wrong way and was having trouble getting back up.

Odin was nearly incoherent with rage, but "Miserable Jotun scum!" they heard him say at least once, and "Why can't you just _die?_ " as he pummeled Loki's face.

Natasha never did figure out where the knife came from, although with magic being a thing it was entirely possible that one of them simply conjured it out of thin air. But Odin had it, straddling Loki, and he stabbed downward while Thor howled in anguish.

Loki twisted like an eel, and bit back a cry as the blade caught something but wasn't immediately fatal; as Odin drew back for another try, the younger man managed a wrist-lock that successfully disarmed him, sending the blade skittering off the dais. Loki's hands had grown talons at the ends of his fingers at some point in their fight, and as Odin tried to strangle him, he grabbed at the older man and left several long, shallow slices along his forearms. He broke the man's grip, and with a heave and a twist, rolled and shoved Odin off of him…

And into the magic circle.

The runes flared bright; everyone at Natasha's end of the room cried out and threw their arms across their faces.

For an eternity, it seemed, the only sound in the room was Loki's harsh panting and occasional grunt of pain. Natasha was sure there was more than that, the people tending to the badly injured guard surely hadn't stopped, but Loki's breath was somehow all that registered.

When the light dimmed, Tony was the first to say anything, while the rest of them were still blinking and wiping at watering eyes.

"Oh, god." She heard him actually _gag_ before she turned around to look.

The… _thing_ lying in the circle no longer looked even remotely human. It was naked, and grotesque, and the pale purple-white of a frog's belly, mottled with sickly purple and gray like dead, rotting fish. It had too many arms, long and spindly, with too many fingers on each hand and serrated, broken claws instead of nails; two of the arms were unnaturally long and nearly reached to the opposite edges of the circle, while the others scratched and groped at the stone. Its bony ribs and spine jutted from its back; its head was too large for the neck, and bulbous like an insect's, even though it had scraggly gray hair that dragged on the floor. The only human-looking feature it had anymore were its legs, and that somehow made it worse, because they were tiny and chubby with rolls of fat, like an infant's, and dragged uselessly behind the creature, toes curling and uncurling, when it tried to move.

It somehow managed to lift its head and look up, and Natasha saw that one eye was milky white, oversized, and rolled aimlessly in its socket, while the other was small and black and blinked as though the light were too bright for it. There was a dripping gash where the nose should be, and the mouth drooled thick yellow saliva around misshapen, broken teeth.

"Loki!" Thor was kneeling at his brother's side where he lay on the dais, holding his side as he caught his breath.

"It's all right," Loki was saying, "it hurts but it isn't serious—I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't—I didn't _think_ , I was trying to survive and I just—"

"Loki, what…?" Loki must have done something to indicate the circle, because that was when Thor turned around and got his first look at what was left of Odin. His face was a picture of horror. " _Father?_ "

The thing that used to be Odin scrabbled and struggled to turn in the confines of the circle. It opened its mouth to say something, but all that came out was a clicking, gurgling hiss. One spidery hand pawed at its throat, and it tried again, louder, but all that happened was that an _excessively_ long, thin tongue flopped out and writhed like a dying snake, trying to shape words that would never be uttered.

Thor sat down hard, his hand over his mouth, while Loki pulled himself upright and leaned into him, his glowing-ember eyes looking just as upset while he clutched his hands over his injured side and stared at the creature who used to be his father. The highlights dancing across his face, in purple and gray and puce, were so extensive as to almost completely obscure the blue of the ice beneath.

"Justice is served," intoned the völva, and everyone turned to look at her. She had gone around to the bench where she'd set her basket at the beginning of all this, and was now taking off her necklace and removing the knife from her belt without looking up. The beads clattered as she dropped them unceremoniously into the basket. "Odin wanted to do _this_ to his own son, knowing that he was under the control of the Mad Titan, knowing that he had enchanted the boy himself to try and _craft_ him into the perfect scapegoat for his own crimes. He _hoped_ that Loki would be turned into something as hideous as this, and then planned to let him live until shame and despair moved him to destroy himself." She drew herself up and looked over her shoulder, her expression impassive. "You brought this upon yourself, Odin Borsson, king no longer, Deceiver and Betrayer. Harvest what you have planted, and the Norns will be satisfied."

The chamber was silent, but for Odin's wet, rasping attempts to speak. Near Natasha, Forseti cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but then paused thoughtfully. He walked around the curve of the bench, careful not to let his robes even go near the circle inlaid in the floor, until he reached the dais; then he stooped, picked up the ceremonial spear that Odin had been carrying, knelt, and presented it to Thor with both hands.

Tears were streaming down Thor's face, but Loki nudged him and nodded silently. When Thor took the spear, Loki drew himself up to one knee, put his fist to his chest, and bowed his head. (Purple and gray and blue and gold, flickering over his skin in never-ending patterns.)

One by one, all the other people from Asgard, witnesses and guards alike, knelt and did the same. Not one of them spoke a word.

Thor rose, helped Loki to his feet, and took in the tiny gathering, there in the chamber. With a shaky breath, he nodded to them all, then turned and walked to the door. A guard stood up and opened it, and he and Loki left.

The old völva went next, followed by Forseti and General Tyr, and then everyone else began to fall into line and file out behind them. The four younger witnesses, including Sif and the blond man, waited while the Avengers all shrugged their shoulders at each other and stood around like idiots, before one of them tapped Steve's shoulder and Sif pointed at the door. The humans all filed out, with the four Asgardians bringing up the rear, and they left Odin—what was left of him, anyway—to drool and scratch at the stone inside the painted runes of the circle.

Nobody spoke.

Natasha hadn't expected everyone to stop and gather right outside in the corridor, but there was someone new standing there, an elegant woman in a flowing gown, who waited until the door to the chamber was closed before she turned to smile at Thor and Loki. Loki had at some point conjured up a heavy cloak with a hood and was trying to bury himself in it, but the woman only stepped up to him, brought his head down to her level, and kissed his forehead.

"Now both my sons are returned to me," she said warmly, pushing the hood back to look at him. (The spot on his forehead that she'd kissed glowed gold, swirling with wisps of purple and gray and red and blue.)

"Mother," stammered Loki, "you mustn't… I do not deserve your kindness. Odin… the outcome was unintentional, I swear it, but—"

"I know what happened, my son," said the queen. "I have been waiting for this for many long years."

It took all of Natasha's training to keep from giving away her shock.

"Wait, what?" asked Clint softly, but apparently being from Asgard gave people super hearing along with the strength of an elephant.

"Mother has the gift of foresight," said Thor, "but she is forbidden from ever speaking of what she sees. It is a terrible burden for her."

"It can sometimes be difficult, but not always," she corrected him. She stepped across to where the Avengers were waiting, hand outstretched. "I am Frigga; mother to Thor and Loki, and until recently, queen of Asgard."

"Uh… nice to meet you, ma'am," said Steve, clasping her hand tentatively. Frigga beamed—Natasha got the impression that handshakes weren't a thing on Asgard, and Frigga was pleased she had gotten the custom right—and held her hand out to everyone else in turn. Tony, of course, bent over it and kissed her knuckle.

"You… you knew what happened?" asked Loki. "How can you forgive what I have done?"

She reached up and stroked his iridescent hair. "Because it was not you who did it," she said calmly. "You would never be so cruel as to dredge up that piece of rune craft, nor inflict it on your own family. What happened to Odin was fate. The justice of the Norns, as the völva said. You are in no way to blame."

"But the rest—"

" _You are in no way to blame,_ " she repeated, looking up into his glowing-ember eyes until he closed them and gave her a tiny nod.

"You have accepted this?" asked Thor. He looked pale, and his hand kept clenching and unclenching around the spear.

"Long ago, yes," said Frigga. "The king of Asgard has great power, invested in him by the land itself. But he is meant to have an advisor who controls the actual _magic_ of Asgard. Odin did not permit me to take that burden from him. He controlled both, and I believe that it is the excess of power that drove him slowly mad. Or perhaps the reverse was true, and his own greed and desire for absolute control were what led him to keep the magic for himself. He became crueler, greedier, more paranoid. He did not trust Loki at all, both because Loki is Jotun and because of the strength of his own seidr, and was content to keep Thor foolish and arrogant because it made him easier to manipulate."

"He meant to put me on the throne, even though he knew Loki was right, and I was not ready." Thor shook his head as the realization sank in. "Because he thought he could still control Asgard through me, and Jotunheim through Loki."

"Mother," asked Loki, "can you tell us—did your sight reveal to you who truly let the Jotnar into the vault on that day? I… remember it, and yet I do not."

"My visions did not reveal it to me; Odin boasted of it," said Frigga darkly. "He built up your envy ever since childhood, and then planted the notion into your mind to _do something_ to prove that Thor was not ready. When you approached the Frost Giants, he was pleased; he monitored the pathway you showed them, and at the right moment, he opened the gate himself."

"So I did do it, but I was his cat's paw." Loki pulled the cloak tighter around himself.

Frigga took each of her sons' hands in hers. "I tried to dissuade him, many times, but he overruled me, and later began to threaten me with your safety. And then the Norns showed me what might happen if I succeeded in turning him from his course, versus what would happen if I allowed him to fall. I am truly sorry, my sons, that you both had to suffer while I stood by and did nothing. Asgard suffered as well, though none dared admit it. But now we are all free of that grasping tyrant. Asgard—all the Nine Realms—will be better for it."

General Tyr cleared his throat; he had approached their little group and positioned himself at a polite distance while they all talked. "My queen," he said, "the guards are uncertain what we are to do with… with what remains of Odin. I thought to ask your wishes before I gave them orders."

"Thank you, General. First, let me be clear that the creature inside the sentencing chamber is _not_ Odin." She raised her voice to take in everyone else in the corridor. "Odin is dead. As far as Asgard is concerned, he destroyed himself shamefully; there will be no ceremony to mark his passing, and his soul will never see the bright skies of Valhalla."

"We shall make it known, my queen," said Forseti. The other Asgardians nodded solemnly.

Frigga nodded. "As for the creature itself," she said to Tyr, "leave it there until it becomes safe enough to move. If that should require a few days' hunger and thirst to make it docile, so be it. Watch over it so that it does not die, and when it permits you to approach, have your men cage it and remove it to the northern forest. Tell them to release it near water so that it can survive if it wishes to, and then they may depart."

The general nodded, and turned to give orders to the guards, but then paused. "Forgive me, my queen," he asked, "but what of Loki?"

Loki, who was standing slightly hunched over, pulled his hand free from his mother's grip and raised the hood over his cloak again. Natasha just had time to see that the ice itself, not just the highlights, was fading back to blue from gold, red, and purple, before Loki tucked it away.

"Loki requires the attentions of a healer," said Frigga. Loki lifted his head in surprise, but she went on, "Odin has controlled my son, altered his thoughts and influenced his behavior, for far too long. And there were other enchantments placed upon him after his fall; I saw them, even if Odin forbade me from speaking of them to anyone. Give him an escort of two guards if you insist upon it, but he must be examined, and treated if at all possible."

General Tyr looked Loki over thoughtfully, then bowed to the three of them. "It shall be done, my queen."

"Völva," added Frigga, "I trust you will accompany my son, and give Lady Eir your testimony?"

"It shall be my pleasure," said the old woman.

The corridor began to empty, and the people who stayed grouped themselves into a cute little pyramid of sorts that amused Natasha as she observed: there were the five Avengers, four companions of Thor's from the sentencing chamber, the three royals themselves, two guards for Loki, and one witch/priestess. The old woman caught Natasha's eye and winked, indicating the arrangement with a tilt of her head.

Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, uh, what happens now?" he asked.

"My friends," said Thor somberly, "I fear I must take my leave of you. I shall accompany you to the Bifrost—"

"I am afraid that is not possible, my son," said Frigga. "You are king now, though it will not be made official for perhaps another day or two, and for better or worse, your every move carries political implications. It would be best for someone else to escort them as they depart. The Warriors Three, and the Lady Sif, perhaps."

"Oh. Wow," said Steve. "I guess I hadn't actually thought of that."

"So this is goodbye?" asked Tony.

"Actually," said Loki tentatively, "I was going to suggest that they remain for a time. As a delegation from Midgard, they could witness Thor's coronation, which would elevate Midgard's status among the other realms. More importantly," he went on, carefully not looking at anyone, "their archer, Agent Barton, may wish to avail himself of our healers as well." His voice dropped and the glow of his eyes seemed to dim as he pulled the cloak tight, wrapping his arms around himself. "His mind was under the Tesseract's control, briefly, in a manner similar to Odin's influence upon me. That is my fault." Natasha heard Clint take a sharp breath and shift his weight; she could just barely make out the gray highlights reflecting across Loki's face under his hood. "I used an artifact that belonged to the Titan, and know not what sort of effects might linger now that he is free of its influence. It is his choice entirely, of course," he added, glancing Clint's way, "but if nothing else it might bring him peace to know for certain that he is truly himself again."

"Wiser than me as always, brother," said Thor with a wistful smile. He brought his hand up to cup the back of Loki's neck. "How I have missed you."

"I don't see why," said Loki; he couldn't seem to raise his eyes anywhere past Thor's collarbone. "I also do not see how you could possibly claim me as your brother or even a friend, after all that has happened."

"And yet I do," said Thor. He threw his arm over Loki's shoulders and turned him down the corridor, and all the other Asgardians fell in around them in an amused mob. "Further, I mean to claim you as the advisor who controls Asgard's magic, as Mother described."

Loki's head shot up at that. "Are you mad? After everything I've done? Looking like _this_?!" He stopped dead in the corridor, jerked back a few steps, and threw his cloak open; the shirt and coat had disappeared again, showing his bare chest in all its ethereal glory. The flame behind the ice burned even brighter within the shadows of his cloak, and green magic was curling all up and down his frame. Along his side, the fresh knife wound from his fight glowed brightly. "There is not a man, woman, or child anywhere in Asgard foolish enough to accept _this_ as the keeper of Asgard's magic! They already think me too powerful as it is, you heard the völva, 'the strongest sorcerer in the Nine Realms', she said!"

"Aye, I did," said the old woman, and Loki startled as if he'd forgotten she was there, yellow and sandstone dancing across his features. "And who better to handle Asgard's power than someone who already understands his own strength and the need for restraint?"

"But I _don't_ understand that, I-I-I'm in no _condition_ to take on more power, I've been under Odin's influence for practically my entire _life_ —don't you see, I have no idea how to wield my own power because I've never truly held it without someone else's hands guiding mine? How could I _possibly_ take on more?"

A chuckle interrupted his rant, and they turned to see Sif grinning and the young blond warrior with her laughing. "By every ancestor, I've not seen you like this since we were children," he said. He sobered quickly. "And I never thought to question why you changed, and for that I am truly sorry. But I have missed you, old friend; and if you are now anything like you used to be then, then I have no fears for your wise use of Asgard's power."

"You would _trust_ a glowing blue _freak_."

"I would trust _Loki_ , as I have since we were small." And the man came up and threw his arms around Loki in a hug that Loki clearly did not know how to process.

"He looks like he tripped a circuit breaker," snickered Tony, before Steve shushed him.

"I'm probably going to _melt_ , if you do not stop," he said finally, blinking in consternation.

Now it was Frigga's turn to chuckle. "Darling son," she said, "I find you absolutely beautiful in this form. You are perfection—"

"You are _biased_ ," muttered Loki, though the sandstone highlights began to shift to peach. Natasha wondered if he had even realized it was happening.

"Don't interrupt. You are perfection, as I said, but if you truly are not comfortable with this form, surely you recall that you _can_ shift your shape?"

She glanced at the völva, who nodded. "You may find you need to renew the rune every so often, but if you truly wish to at least _appear_ Aesir, you should be able to do so. Even a glamour ought to suffice. You have more than enough strength for either."

Loki just stared at the woman for a moment. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Oh," he said finally. After another round of staring, while she just smiled at him like a happy babushka, he brought his hands up to his forehead and swept his fingertips down his face. Green wisps poured out from his fingers and left pale, smooth skin behind.

When he was done, he was ordinary, white-guy Loki again, clothed, though his hair was still had iridescent highlights when he turned his head. "It's only a surface image," he explained, removing the cloak and making it disappear, "but it should suffice for the time being."

"Come brother," smiled Thor, "let us see you to the healers, and then once you are calm it will be my turn to panic over the thought of just having become king."

"You are not the only one panicking!" boomed one of Thor's friends, a large man with a red beard who looked like he could audition for young Santa Claus.

"And once that is done, then there will be time for mourning," said Loki quietly, looking over his shoulder at the door to the sentencing chamber.

"There will be time for acceptance," said Frigga, as he held out his arm for her to take. "And then there will be time for you to rediscover yourself, reforge your relationships with your brother and friends, and perhaps create new alliances with the heroes of Midgard."

"You think that's something we'll want?" Clint asked Natasha, as the conversation from the other Asgardians drowned him out. Oddly enough, he didn't sound hostile to the notion. Steve looked over curiously, and then so did Tony and Bruce.

"I think it's a little early to tell for sure," said Natasha, falling in as the entire troop made its way down the corridor, "but all his tells are different now. Even his patterns of speech have changed. I don't think we know who this Loki really is."

"Fury would have a conniption if we even considered it," said Clint.

"Bonus, in my opinion," put in Tony.

"He might be okay with having Loki come back to clean up his own mess," said Steve. "Mind controlled or not. And it sounds like he has intel he _wanted_ to give us but couldn't."

"With Thor becoming king, he'll be staying here in Asgard more or less permanently," said Bruce. "Even having a diplomatic liaison between Earth and Asgard could be a good thing."

Natasha nodded, assessing, analyzing what she had seen today. "We don't know who this Loki is," she repeated, "but I think it might be good to find out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is that. Whoever the anonymous person was who prompted this originally on Norsekink, I hope I've made them happy. Thank you all for taking the time to let me know what you thought; some of your ideas did inspire me to tweak things a bit here and there before posting.
> 
> Special thanks also to Nyx Ro and Kadorienne, for bits and pieces of their own headcanons which were sprinkled here and there in Odin's deeds and motivations.
> 
> If you want to leave extra kudos, you're welcome to stop by [my Tumblr blog](http://peaceheather.tumblr.com) and say hello!


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